


Younglings on Board

by Seeker_Obsessed



Series: A Second Chance [4]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Sparklings, sparkling!Bluestreak, sparkling!Bumbleebee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 21:58:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1403938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seeker_Obsessed/pseuds/Seeker_Obsessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young spark onlines, giving hope to some and a sense of longing to others.<br/>Prequel drabble for my AU/UA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Younglings on Board

**Author's Note:**

> Bolded dialogue (which is all of it) is Cybertronian.  
> In case there’s any confusion, Bumblebee’s name is italicized because they aren't actually saying ‘bumblebee’ but the Cybertronian equivalent, which isn't translatable.

Aboard the Ark II.

“ **Are you sure it’s supposed to look like that?** ” Ratchet asked staring at the tiny frame Wheeljack was painting.

Wheeljack sighed as he slapped more yellow paint onto a door-winglet. “ **I’ve checked the stats a dozen times,** ” he insisted, “ **this is what he’s suppose to look like...the paint might be a shade off but we don’t have much to work with so...** ”

Ratchet huffed and continued to watch the engineer work in silence. It was kind of eerie, the still youngling form. It was true that the little one wasn’t technically dead, but war had taken its toll and the cold dark optics brought horrific memories back up to the front of his processor.

Wheeljack must have noticed because he asked, “ **so...who’s the lucky creator?** ”

“ **The correct term would be guardian,** ” Ratchet said shaking the unwanted images, “ **and** **Prime has decided to hand him over to Jazz and Prowl.** ”

“ **That’s good, especially with the frames ‘unique’ features,** ” Wheeljack pointed to the door-winglets, “ **at least Prowl’ll be able to show him how to take care of them.** ”

“ **I think Prime was more concerned with keeping our current younglings together,** ” he stepped over and brought his servo out to touch the little one’s helm. He paused and looked at Wheeljack who gave him a nod of approval, then stroked an air vent. “ **The wars going to be hard enough on both of them,** ” he said, “ **they might as well have someone their own age to bond with.** ”

Wheeljack nodded in agreement and put the lid back on the paint, turning to put it on the shelf.

“ **So when can I tell Prime the frame will be ready?** ” Ratchet asked.

“ **About this time tomorrow. Just need time for the paint to dry.** ” Wheeljack pulled another paint can off the shelf, “ **you think Prowl would disapprove of black stripes?** ”

*

The dimly lit med-bay room was fairly crowded. The youngling frame laid peacefully on a vertical-turned berth. Ratchet and Wheeljack stood on either side, Optimus next to Ratchet with the spark incubator between them. Ironhide stood close to the door, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. Jazz and Prowl stood near the center of the room murmuring to each other while little Bluestreak clung to his carrier’s leg while looking around curiously.

“ **Are we ready?** ” Ratchet asked softly. He looked to Jazz and Prowl and then to Optimus.

Each gave a nodded.

“ **Then let’s begin. Wheeljack?** ”

Wheeljack easily shifted the frame’s chest plating to reveal its spark chamber.

Ratchet undid the lid on the incubator and everyone held still, barely willing to vent, as he lifted the spark out of the container. It hovered between his servos, bobbing lightly from side to side. Ratchet smiled, “ **he’s playful,** ” he said glancing around. That seemed to relax everyone, even if only just. He stepped in front of the frame and carefully deposited the spark into the chamber. He closed the plating and stepped back out of everyone’s way.

Almost instantly, the frame began to hum to life. The soft whirl of machinery was followed by light flickering in the optics. A servo twitched and the optics onlined. The little helm lifted and everyone gasped as his big blue optics shuddered and unshuddered for the first time.

“ **Hello little one,** ” Ratchet said attempting to follow protocol as best he could. This was different from the Well Center he’d interned at. There a spark would have been fully matured and given an adult frame. This was a premature spark in a youngling’s frame. As far as he was aware, it had never been done before.

 The little one swiveled his helm toward the sound and stared at Ratchet.

Ratchet moved slowly and knelt beside the youngling, “ **do you have a designation?** ”

The youngling remained silent, watching him.

“ **That’s okay, we can come up with something later.** ”

“ **Ratchet?** ” Wheeljack spoke, “ **is he alright?** ”

Ratchet’s gaze didn’t leave the sparkling, “ **it’s not too uncommon for newsparks to be quiet,** ” he replied, “ **they’re different from gestation created which spend the entire time immersed in their carrier’s experiences. Okay let’s try walking,** ” he changed his tone and grabbed the sparkling’s servos. He tugged lightly and the sparkling fell forward, crashing against his chest. Ratchet chuckled, “okay **now this time let’s try moving your pedes.** ” he carefully put the little pedes under the sparkling and righted him.

A few kliks later and the youngling was standing, albeit wobbly. Ratchet held him steady as he took his first steps. After a few tries he was walking on his own. Everyone chuckled as he trudged a few steps on his own. The sound startled him slightly and he paused, looking around for the source. His optics landed on Optimus, being the loudest.

“ **I think he’s coming to you, Prime,** ” Ratchet said as the little one stumbled toward the larger mech.

Optimus braced his pedes for fear of hurting the youngling.

The little one grew impatient and quickened his pace. The effect was less stability and he tumbled forward a few paces toward Prime.

Prime knelt and caught the youngling.

The little one slumped in the servo that held him up and a gurgle of laughter erupted from his vocalizer. His door-winglets twitched with glee and he went silent, optics wide. He wiggled them hesitantly, noticing them for the first time, and peered over his shoulder to try and look at them.

Optimus carefully ran a digit along the top edge of one of wing-lets and another shrill laughter erupted from the sparkling. He glanced over at Ratchet and, after getting a nod of approval, slowly lifted the little one and brought him over to Jazz and Prowl. “ **I believe this is yours,** ” he said, a smile pulling at his lip-plating.

Jazz cracked a big grin when the youngling met him at optic level, “ **hey there little guy!** ”

The youngling squealed and reached for Jazz’s face-plate.

“ **He sounds like a fragging _bumblebee_ ,**” Ironhide stated.

“ **Language, Ironhide,** ” Prowl warned.

“ ** _Bumblebee_ ,**” Jazz murmured fondly as he took the youngling from Prime. “ ** _Bumblebee_ ,**” he said more firmly, “ **I like it. What do you think?** ” he asked Prowl.

The enforcer merely nodded.

“ ** _Bumblebee_ it is then,** ” Jazz announced, “ **thank you ‘Hide!** ”

“ **Thank me...for what? Wait you aren’t seriously naming him after a bug are you?** ” Ironhide asked incredulously, and slightly guilty for putting the idea in their processors.

“ **Do we look like we aren’t serious?** ” Prowl asked with his usual lackluster expression.

Ironhide huffed and Prime cut in.

“ **I think it’s a wonderful designation,** ” he said.

Prowl leaned over and rubbed the back of Bumblebee’s, a feint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. It disappeared instantly when he took in the details of the sparkling’s paint job. “ **Were the racing stripes really necessary?** ” he asked eyeing Wheeljack.

Bumblebee stared at the pretty mech with fascination but quickly lost interest in the speaking mechs. He glanced around the room curiously, it was all so new. A squeak caught his attention and he looked down into curious optics.

Bluestreak stared up at the new youngling in his carrier’s arms. His winglets shook fervently. Who was this? How dare they take his spot! He reached up toward the other youngling giving an angry chirr. His reach fell short and only managed to pat his carrier’s arm, who was too busy talking about big bot stuff to notice.

Bumblebee squirmed in the pretty mech’s embrace and leaned over the arm. He chirped back happily and gripped the other youngling’s servos.

Bluestreak’s winglets fluttered with surprise, a smile spreading on his faceplate. With renewed enthusiasm, he stood on the tips of the pedes and tried to get closer. When that wasn’t satisfactory, he started to jump, clattering against his carrier’s arm.

Jazz stopped mid-sentence and looked down at his overly zealous creation.

Bluestreak faltered when he noticed he was caught.

“ **You wanna say hi too?** ” Jazz asked warmly. He knelt down and allowed the younglings to come face to face.

Everyone was silent, waiting to see what the younglings would do.

Bluestreak took a step closer, optics narrowing quizzically. With speed that startled everyone, he latched onto the sides of Bumblebee’s helm with both servos.

Bumblebee’s optics widened at the sudden act but he remained still for his examination.

Whatever Blue had been looking for he must have found because his expression quickly morphed to one of glee. He let out a delighted squeal and pressed his faceplate to Bumblebee’s.

The room erupted in ‘awww’s and Jazz slowly stood, pulling Bumblebee away.

Bluestreak almost looked offended.

Jazz smiled warmly down at his creation. “ **Come on Blue,** ” he said offering his servo to the youngling, “ **let’s get your new brother situated.** ”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope to add more eventually, but the main fic is the priority.  
> Comments and criticism are welcomed.


End file.
